


In the darkness

by Taera



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Available in Russian, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sorry Not Sorry, blame the book for it, it's dark and angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 08:26:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6746584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taera/pseuds/Taera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Perhaps, even if just for a week, his treacherous heart would calm down and stop sending him damned dreams-memories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the darkness

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Во тьме](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6376264) by [Tatrien (Taera)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taera/pseuds/Tatrien). 



> Written specially for "Winter Temporary Fandom Combat 2016".
> 
> It's based on the book "Assassin's Creed: Underworld". Sorry not Sorry.

The most terrifying thing in the Tunnel was not the danger of bandits coming from the black depths, nor was it clingy darkness clogging throat with smells of mold, and dust, and sweat, and human excrements (to be honest, all European cities smelled like that). No, the most terrifying thing for the Ghost was when dreams came, dreams of hot kisses on the rooftops of Amritsar, washed in golden sunlight.

He was scared because in those dreams lips weren't soft but chapped, because another's stubble scratched his cheeks, because gray eyes glowed with bitterness and guilt, and callous hands hastily skidded under his clothes.

After those dreams the Ghost woke up even more exhausted than usual, and, returning to his alcove in the Tunnel after the sun dove behind the horizon, he prayed to all the gods he knew for the rock on a cemeterial wall not to be angled to the right. He prayed Frye did not schedule a meeting.

Usually, he got lucky and didn't hear anything from Ethan, so the Ghost had time to battle down his feverish fantasies and once more become Bharat for another day to come.

Sometimes he couldn’t overcome the bittersweet honey of guilt mixed with carnal desire. Sometimes he yielded to his basic nature. Sometimes he allowed his thoughts to run wild, pleasing himself and swallowing broken moans.

It was all the sweeter (like ash) when he remembered that at this very place, in the thick bushes of a churchyard, they usually met with Ethan. The shrubs and darkness secured and concealed from malevolent eyes, giving deceptive protection both for secret meetings and for pleasing oneself in more carnal ways.

Biting on his knuckles, for a long time now not paying any attention to the creaking earth between his teeth, the Ghost... no, Jayadeep unlaced his trousers and closed his right hand around his cock. In spite of the exhaustion after the long shift of mindless tunnel digging, Jayadeep felt he won’t be able to sleep today. That dream haunted him still, and he knew from the experience only one way of easing his lot and finding any peace.

That’s why now he was standing on his knees in the deep graveyard bushes, squeezing his rock-hard cock. As before, his hand moved fast and brusquely, on the very verge between pain and pleasure. He wanted to finish as soon as possible, knowing full well that, despite all of his precautions, someone (he feared to say Frye’s name even in his thoughts) could spot him anyway.

He squeezed his eyes shut, imagining not his own hand but another’s, with lighter skin and wider in build, he imagined Ethan embracing him from the back, his arm crossing Jayadeep’s chest, his breath tickling tender skin on the neck, nipping at his earlobe now and then and whispering obscenities in hoarse voice. Just like the one with which he refused him all that time back in Amritsar.

Cumming was painful. Ached not his flesh but his soul, craving for warmth and mutual feelings and getting a cold denial. For a moment blinding hunger twisted in his chest.

Perhaps, even if just for a week, his treacherous heart would calm down and stop sending him damned dreams-memories.


End file.
